Memories

Memories

 

Memories they are,

simple thoughts stored in the back of your minds,

as they cannot kill,

they can harm.

Striking faster than the snake,

it hits the veins,

a dark red line,

flowing and staining the record,

the permanent one at that.

Sitting up in bed,

the adult is left shaking,

a child he is,

a memory,

putting him back in his mother's arms,

the ones she suffocated him with all those years.

Sweat dripping from the brow,

hopeless it is,

trying to forget,

all his memories,

the ones that hurt him so,

digging his grave deeper than others,

his memory trying to foget as well,

its own memory.

Violenty he is wrenched from bed,

mother's arms dragging,

nails planted hard,

buried by her ghost,

alive and dead she leaves him,

a memory reminding her,

that he will never die.

Reviews

[Jake Martin]

Very well written and constructed.
The feelings are deep. I enjoy reading things like that.
I want to read more from you.
Keep writing!

[Angelic Darkness]

This is deep, and very felt. Reminds me of a mother I don't have
anything to do with now. Memories are hard to forget, yet they shape
who and what we are. We fail sometimes to remember the good.

AD